The Brighton Beach Test
by Bellairian
Summary: A joint story from Bellairian and Changedstripes. Phryne invites the usual suspects to Brighton Beach on Boxing Day.


_Changedstripes had a brilliant idea so we joined forces and this story is the result._

xoxox

_December 26 – Boxing Day_

Phryne invited the usual suspects to Brighton Beach on Boxing Day, promising a very casual affair where everyone could arrive when they wanted to and relax and enjoy each other's company after the previous day's far more formal festivities.

She and Jack were the first to arrive since she had the key to Aunt Prudence's bathing shed and its treasure trove of beach chairs.

"Aunt P has owned this bathing shed for years." Phryne said to Jack as she slid the key into the padlock on the door. "Guy and his friends used it constantly before he went off to university. There should be more than enough beach chairs in here somewhere."

The lock gave way easily – Mrs. Stanley might not be a regular beachgoer but her staff kept her possessions in good working order – and Phryne stepped in. It smelled like all bathing sheds everywhere – a little salty, a little dusty, the tiniest hint of mildew from a damp cushion that had never dried properly. Dust motes that had been floating lazily in the still air danced in a frenzy with the fresh breeze coming through the open door. Inside it looked like all beach sheds everywhere – fishing rods and nets hanging on hooks, shells and pieces of sea glass and bits of driftwood resting on shelves, folding chairs leaning against a wall.

Phryne scooted out of the way so Jack could come in. "I'm beginning to think you only want to marry me for furniture moving purposes, Miss Fisher," Jack quipped as he brushed past her.

Phryne laughed delightedly as she tugged Jack close and draped her arms over his shoulders. "I had no idea you would be so useful as well as decorative, Inspector," she said as she tilted her hips and shifted, ever so slightly, to press into his body. "As much as I appreciate your ability to strategize, I do appreciate your physical prowess," running her hands down his arms and lightly squeezing his biceps.

Jack's eyes narrowed and he traced the curves of Phryne's hips up to her waist. The summer dress she was wearing floated lightly over her body and her breasts were making friends with his chest. Friends like that deserved attention and he ran his hands up from her waist to meet them, gently stroking until her nipples rose to greet him. He welcomed them with a caress and heard a soft sigh escape Phryne's lips.

"You could leave the chairs for Bert and Cec when they get here," she breathed, wiggling her hips.

"What would be the fun in that? I thought you just said you appreciate my physical prowess," Jack asked as he nuzzled her neck. The tiny buttons down the front of her dress begged to be undone and her bare legs begged to be stroked. Since bare legs were easier and quicker to access than bare breasts, Jack reached down and slipped his hand under the hem of her dress, sliding up her thigh to fluttery knickers.

Phryne's response was to curl her leg around Jack's thigh, pulling him even closer. "I think you can agree _not_ moving furniture can be fun too, Inspector."

"Mmmm, I _can_ agree, Miss Fisher," Jack replied and stoked higher still to a handful of warm bottom.

Thinking two handfuls of warm bottom would be even nicer than one, Jack reached out to push the door closed, only to be met by resistance from the other side. The force pushing the door open was greater than the force pushing it closed and the comrades appeared, framed by the door jamb and haloed by the bright light reflecting off the sand. Everyone stood stock still for a second. Bert and Cec dropped their eyes and took a step back. Phryne's foot found the floor and Jack's hands regained their positions at his sides.

"Mr. B sent us to help with the chairs, Miss," Cec said. Another couple of seconds passed before Bert and Jack could exchange their usual "Inspector" and "Albert" greetings.

Figuring discretion was the better part of valor, Jack turned and grabbed some chairs. Phryne moved so he could get past her and out the door and Bert and Cec could get in and repeat the process.

Everyone but Mac had arrived and Mr. Butler was spreading several rugs on the sand and weighting the corners down with picnic baskets and when Jack appeared with the chairs he showed him where he wanted them placed. He did the same when Bert and Cec arrived with the rest of the chairs.

Phryne remained in the shed for a few minutes. It had been years since she'd been in it and she held a piece of the sea glass up to the light, admiring the iridescent sheen worn onto the surface of the glass by years of contact with salt water. She put the bit of glass back in its place when something in the corner caught her eye. It looked like part of a varnished oar, but why on earth would anyone keep part of an oar? She looked closer and realized it wasn't an oar at all but a cricket bat. A couple of tennis balls were on the shelf above it. Guy must have left everything there ages ago. Phryne grabbed the bat and the balls and practically skipped out of the shed, calling to the others.

"Look what I found! Who wants to play?"

xoxox

Bert and Jack both looked up with interest at Phryne brandishing the scruffy bat.

"Cricket, Miss Fisher?" Jack asked.

"Are you not familiar with the game Jack?" Phryne responded with feigned innocence.

Jack smiled indulgently. "Of course I am, Miss Fisher. I just never picked you as a cricket fan."

Phryne smiled back. "I'll have you know, I was the batting champion of Collingwood for at least two years running. I wouldn't be at all surprised if my average has yet to be beaten."

Jack's grin widened at that.

"Although, as it happens," Phryne continued "my interest in cricket was interrupted at around the same time my interest in football was."

"Another unsuspecting man?"

Phryne rolled her eyes affectionately. "Not unsuspecting so much as unforgivably brutish," she said with a pout. Jack raised his eye at her questioningly. "I got into a fight with Danny Simpson because he tried to insist that girls should not be allowed to play. I was forced to disagree with him."

"Vehemently, no doubt."

"You know me, Jack, I never back down from a challenge." Jack grinned in acknowledgement. "I managed to carry my point, but my mother was less than impressed when I came home with a torn dress and bruised hand. She made me stay inside and work on my needlework for a week. After that, I decided cricket was too much trouble."

Jack reached out, almost reflexively, and caressed the side of Phryne's face. "And you're not afraid of coming to grief now?"

Phryne gave a saucy grin. "I'm not afraid, Inspector. I think a game of cricket would be a wonderful way to spend our afternoon." She reached out to run a mischievous hand down his shirtfront. "Unless, _you_ are afraid to play, Inspector?"

Before Jack could answer, Bert piped up, "Cec and me are game, Miss."

Phryne dropped her hand from Jack's chest and turned to look at Bert, noting with some amusement the eager anticipation on his face.

"Isn't that right, Cec?" Burt turned to the quiet man standing next to him.

"Yeah, I 'spose."

Phryne clapped her hands in delight. "Wonderful! I guess that means you have me on your team, Jack."

Jack chuckled softly. "I wouldn't have it any other way, Miss Fisher, but you might find we need more than the two of us to make a team."

"You afraid to take me and Cec on?" Bert asked, with more than just a hint of belligerence.

"Not at all, Albert." Jack didn't bother to hide the sarcasm in his voice, and Phryne wondered briefly if the friendly grudge match she was envisioning would devolve into all grudge with none of the friendly part before they could even start. "I'm just thinking more players make for a more interesting match. Jack jutted his chin out in his own subtle but unmistakable challenge.

"Yeah, alright," Bert allowed diffidently.

"Excellent!" Phryne clapped her hands happily. "Who's with us?"

Jack fixed Hugh, who was sitting on a rug in the sand next to Dot, with a stern, expectant glare. His meaning was unmistakable.

"I'll play, Sir," the Constable said, scrambling to his feet and brushing the sand from his trouser-clad legs.

"Your move Johnson," Jack said with a smirk.

Bert turned to look at Mr. B, who was still busy with the picnic supplies. "How 'bout it, Mr. B?"

"Well, like Miss Fisher, it has been some time since I played, myself, but if our mistress has no objections, I'd be happy to help your efforts."

"Of course, Mr Butler," Phryne smiled.

"Well that's three then," Bert observed, chewing on the stubby end of a cigarette.

"Even numbers would work better, under these circumstances" Jack pointed out.

"Righto then. How's about it, Dottie?"

Dot looked up startled. "Me?"

"Yep," Bert said, "Whaddya reckon? You want to help me and Cec and Mr. B show these coppers and Miss Fisher how the game is played?"

Dot was about to demure when she saw Hugh open his mouth to say something. "I'd love to, Bert." She leapt to her feet and stood beside Bert, facing Hugh with a look that clearly dared him to challenge her. Hugh wisely shut his mouth and went to stand beside Jack and Phryne.

"Wonderful! Although that still leaves us one short," Phryne said with a small frown. "How about you Aunt P?" she asked sweetly.

"Certainly not, Phryne!" her Aunt spluttered as she sat heavily in a beach chair.

"Not your thing, Aunt P?" Phryne continued to feign innocence as she enjoyed needling her Aunt.

Aunt Prudence pursed her lips in irritation as she arranged her skirt around her legs. "You know very well I was a very successful all rounder during my time at Warleigh Grammar. I have always considered cricket a suitably refined pastime for young ladies." She narrowed her eyes. "In the right circumstances, of course."

"Perhaps you might like to act as umpire then, Aunt P?" Phryne soothed. "And perhaps Jane and Arthur can keep score?" Phryne gestured to her ward, who had taken advantage of the distraction occasioned by the cricket discussion to start taking photos of the gathering around her. Jane, noting her foster mother's pointed gaze, smiled and dutifully drew Arthur over to the empty chairs beside his mother.

"That's sorted then!"

"But we still seem to be one player short, Miss Fisher," Jack pointed out.

"One player short for what?" a familiar voice came from behind.

"Mac!" Phryne exclaimed delightedly. "You're just in time."

"Just in time for what?" Mac asked dubiously as she strode up to join them.

"To join our cricket game, of course!"

"And I suppose my participation is not optional?"

"Surely you wouldn't want to miss all the fun of helping the Inspector, Hugh and me give these others a drubbing they'll not soon forget?"

"Indeed." Mac said wryly, shedding her jacket and rolling her sleeves up with amused forbearance.

A lengthy and at times terse negotiation of the rules between Jack and Bert was followed by a rather comical coin toss, won by Bert who elected to bat, after which Phryne amused herself further by scandalising her Aunt with a cheeky suggestion they sing _God Save the King_ before starting play. Finally Bert and Mr B took their places in front of hastily two hastily fashioned wickets on a strip of flat beach that was to serve as the pitch.

Having arranged his field to his liking, Jack took up the ball, rubbed it on his thigh and did a few practice run ups.

Phryne, by now thoroughly enjoying how earnestly Jack was treating their rag-tag match, couldn't resist teasing him. "And on day one of the first Brighton Beach Test, it's Robinson to open the bowling to Johnson from the Pavilion End," she crooned in the plummy tones of a BBC announcer. Jack shook his head at her. Undeterred, she continued, "Robinson has opted for a non-conventional field of a wicket keeper, one at silly mid off and one at deep forward square ..."

"You're not taking this seriously, Miss Fisher," Jack said exasperatedly.

"I'm merely trying to express my admiration for your ability to strategize, Inspector," Phryne shot back.

"Righto, any chance we might start this match some time today?" Bert inquired irritably from behind the crease at the strikers end, impatiently stamping the end of his bat on the ground next to his feet.

"Keep your shirt on, Bert," Jack called back, as he took his position to begin his run up to bowl the first ball of the day.

The match proceeded to unfold with more enthusiasm than finesse, and with great enjoyment. Although this was possibly not the case for Jack and Bert, who continued to treat the game as though they were engaged in some kind of battle, each determined to best the other.

As it happened, this shared determination to outdo served more to weaken than sharpen their focus at various points of the match. Bert's disgust knew no bounds when, after a burst of aggressive cover drives, he was bowled for a mere ten runs in the fourth over. He spent the rest of his team's innings doing his best to sledge Jack from the sidelines, while Cec, Mr. Butler, and Dot all went on to respectable totals.

Phryne was slightly taken aback to note that her normally unflappable Inspector seemed unusually affected by Bert's jibes as the afternoon wore on, and their fortunes waxed and waned. Eventually, the match reached its dramatic climax when, Phryne found herself facing an increasingly determined Bert, with two runs required for victory and Hugh at the non-striker's end.

"Come on Miss Fisher!" Jack called from the sidelines. "Make it count!"

"Honestly, Jack," she teased back, "you make it sound like we are playing for the Ashes."

"Just keep your eye on the ball, Miss Fisher," Jack said, irritably.

Phryne laughed. "Might I remind you, Inspector, that my efforts with the bat have so far proven much more successful than yours?" Her remark had its intended effect of silencing Jack who had earlier been responsible for his own demise when he had over-enthusiastically hooked the ball into the ocean - an action which, as had been agreed upon earlier, counted as six runs and instant dismissal.

Phryne took up her position with one foot firmly behind the crease as an almost furious-looking Bert hurled the ball at her. She was gratified to feel her bat connect solidly with the ball, and without waiting to see how far she had managed to hit it, she began to run to the opposite end of the pitch, only to stumble awkwardly in the sand, painfully twisting her ankle.

She collapsed in an undignified heap, blinking in pained surprise. A collective gasp went up from the crowd, but before anyone else could react, Phryne felt herself being scooped up by Jack who had bounded in, not to check on her ankle, but to make sure she completed her ill-fated dash to the opposite crease.

Hugh, who had been making his own charge towards the wicket recently vacated by Phryne, stood frozen, bat poised mid air, and watched the ridiculous sequence of events unfold.

"Jack, what on earth are you doing?" Phryne asked as he began to run with her clasped somewhat awkwardly in his arms.

"Making sure we win, Miss Fisher," Jack answered as if it were the most natural thing in the world for him to be running across the beach while carrying her. With a superhuman effort born of desperation he managed to fling them both past the crease. The momentum generated from his mad dash caused him to fall on his knees and topple forward. He just managed to catch his weight on his forearms before he landed bodily on Phryne.

They lay winded and tangled in the sand, as everyone held their breath. Eventually Jack gave a strangled cry of '"Crease!" at which point Phryne dissolved into giggles and buried her face against his shoulder

In light of Phryne's injury, Aunt Prudence called a halt to play, declaring the match a draw, much to Burt's disgust. He stomped off, muttering about capitalist plots and the oppressors of the state who enforced them. Dot and Hugh helped Jack to his feet, while Mac busied herself examining Phryne's ankle.

"Never mind Jack," Phryne said, noting with amused affection the look of unguarded disappointment on his face. "There's always next year!"

A slow smile of contentment spread across Jack's face as the full implication of her words washed over him. There would be a next year, and a year after that, and so on. There would be birthdays, Christmases, and a hundred other things big and small in between. There would be a life lived together. Suddenly the outcome of the match didn't seem half so disappointing.

"Too bloody right there will be another year!" Bert called across the beach. "You owe me a rematch, Inspector!"

Jack shrugged good-naturedly. "I look forward to it, Bert."

"And let's not forget Hugh's marvelous effort today!" Phryne chimed in. "The only one amongst us to carry his bat! He will remain undefeated until next year."

Hugh blushed under Phryne's praise. His blush deepened when Dot reached up to press an impulsive kiss of congratulations to his cheek.

"Well, I daresay you will live," Mac said briskly, pushing back to stand before Phryne. "Providing you keep off that ankle."

"I'll make sure of it," Jack said before Phryne could respond.

"Do I get a say in the matter?" Phryne asked, pretending to pout.

Heedless of their assembled family and friends watching on, Jack crouched down to whisper intimately in her ear, "Would it make it more enticing if I told you I have a plan to keep you thoroughly distracted while you are off your feet?"

Phryne shivered in anticipation at Jack's promise. She pulled back so they could trade a heated look full of longing. Her desire to kiss him was rapidly overcoming any objections her brain may have been able to formulate, but before she could succumb, her Aunt's shrill voice startled her from her contemplation of Jack's mouth.

"Shall we adjourn for tea?"

xoxox

The sun was beginning to set when Mac left to stop off at the hospital on her way home and Mrs. Stanley decided it was time to depart also. She scanned the beach for Arthur and saw him standing at the edge of the water with Jane.

Phryne and Jack were also at the water's edge a few yards further down the beach and Mrs. Stanley watched them for a few moments. They were laughing and talking, their beach chairs side by side, quite close, fingers barely touching. The breeze was fluttering the hem of Phryne's dress over the Inspector's leg. A little gust blew Phryne's hair into her eyes and the Inspector gently swept her niece's hair behind her ear and traced her jaw in a caress. The Inspector's eyes were full of love and happiness and desire and although she couldn't see Phryne's eyes Mrs. Stanley guessed her expression mirrored his. It had been a very, very long time since Mrs. Stanley had been looked at or touched like that and she felt a pang of sadness and longing. But she was glad for Phryne. Very glad, she decided.

She called to Arthur and Jane tugged Arthur's arm when she heard Mrs. Stanley's voice. "Come on Arthur, your mother is ready to leave. I'll race you!"

Mrs. Stanley turned to Jane as the two of them came running up to her. "Jane, how you would like to spend the night? You and Arthur can swim in the pool tomorrow. We will stop and pick up some things on our way." It really wasn't a question though. "Run and tell Phryne. And tell her we'll see ourselves off."

xoxox

_Afterwards, at Phryne's house_

"Thank you for carrying me into the house, Jack," Phryne remarked fondly as Jack gently deposited her on the loveseat in the parlor. "Although I was perfectly capable of limping in."

"You're perfectly capable of many, many things, Phryne," Jack grinned as he placed a pillow under her ankle and trailed his fingers up her calf. "Carrying you in is just part of my plan to distract you."

"Distract me all you like, then" she purred, smiling up to him as he moved an armchair next to the loveseat.

He sat down and leaned close to catch her lips in a gentle kiss. "I can assure you, I'm going to do my very best," he said, catching her lips again for a deeper kiss as her arms reached around his neck.

After a particularly passionate moment Phryne trailed a finger down his shirtfront and back up, unbuttoning a button. "I can't decide whether my favorite part of the day was seeing you so worked up over a friendly game," she teased, her eyes bright with affection and mischief, "or you scooping me up to try to win. I had no idea you have such a competitive streak."

"I just didn't want to see your excellent playing go to waste," Jack replied, smirking as Phryne acknowledged his praise with a grin. "_My_ favorite part of the day is a tie between playing in the shed and playing after the match."

Phryne's brow furrowed as she recalled the events of the day. "But we didn't play after the match Jack." The furrow faded and her eyelashes fluttered as Jack started a trail of kisses down her neck.

"No, but we will. Beginning with a bath," he said, punctuating every word with a kiss, "where I intend to find every, single, grain of sand."

"That is a _very_ good plan, Inspector," she murmured as she undid another of his buttons. "Sand ends up _everywhere_."

"Mmmm. Yes it does, Miss Fisher."


End file.
